Oil and Water
by ceirdwenfc
Summary: Originally written for an exchange on the rarepair shorts community.


Lavender sat in the grass, her legs outstretched. Tears were streaming down her face as she tore hunks of bread apart and threw them into the Black Lake. Before each one hit the water, no matter how small, the Giant Squid reached out a tentacle and scooped the bread chunks. Now and again, he would splash her, but as much as he seemed to be trying, there was no smile behind Lavender's tears. She hadn't heard Parvati coming up behind her until the Squid took it upon himself, letting loose with an enormous splash. The water went right over Lavender's head, keeping her dry, but hitting Parvati full in the face. Her shriek startled Lavender more than the water.

"He's just playing," Lavender said quietly. She waved her wand in Parvati's direction and without looking dried her easily.

Parvati straightened her robes and sat down next to Lavender.

"So," she began. "Did you and Seamus –"

She was cut off by the glare Lavender just shot in her direction.

"Well, what did happen then? I'm sorry, Lav, but I could hear the two of you –"

She stopped speaking again when red sparks flew from Lavender's wand, clutched tightly in her hand

"Lavender, what's going on?" She reached out and touched Lavender's elbow gently, and Lavender surprised even herself by jerking it away from her friend.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "We celebrated his…Vol - Voldemort's death. We drank too much firewhisky. Abeforth brought it." She wished that she could blame him for what happened next, and in remembering her night, she wouldn't meet Parvati's eye. She could see the smirk beginning on her friend's lips, thinking that what Lavender had finally gotten what she wanted all year. Her eyes shifted to her friend and then back to the lake. "It wasn't Seamus," she blurted out, dropping her face into her hands.

She could feel Parvati staring at her. "Not Seamus? But I –"

"No."

"Then who did you shag last night?"

"Oliver. Oliver Wood."

"Well, he's not so bad –"

Lavender hung her head, and her back shook from the sobs. "Seamus found us this morning…in the dormitories."

"How did Seamus get in?"

"Boys' dormitories."

*********

Things were different.

One week later, and things were different.

Families regrouped, reunited, and the rebuilding had begun. Hogwarts was first on the list. Interim Headmistress McGonagall intended to open on time on 1st September, and if there was anything that Lavender knew from seven years under this particular Head of House, it was that if Professor McGonagall wanted to do something, check it off the list; it was done.

Minister Shacklebolt had agreed to let the students come back to clean up and restore the castle. They were still searching the rubble for some of the missing. The funeral services would begin in three days with Fred Weasley, so the Great Hall was to be today's focused clean up. They were divided into teams and Lavender discovered, much to her horror, that she was with an unlikely group: Parvati, Padma, Megan Jones, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Oliver Wood and…and Seamus Finnigan.

Lavender wanted to crawl under the rubble and die. She might have done that a year ago, but this year was spent growing up. There was no hiding now. What was the point, really? Everyone heard about what happened; how Seamus had gone looking for her and discovered her. If they hadn't heard the sordid details, Seamus' drunken week at the Hog's Head certainly filled those there in on what he discovered when he was looking for Lavender after the Battle.

She stared at Seamus, but looked away when he met her eye. He was still angry. That much was obvious by his scowl whenever he looked in her direction and the muttering, not to mention the colorful language he used when he was partnered with Oliver dividing the tables into needs repair and repaired. The room was mostly quiet, only the hum of students and former students, Order members, all Houses working together, making the Great Hall presentable for the memorial services.

Lavender thought she heard her name, but had made a point of not looking up from the chair leg she was replacing. Her wand had a long silvery filament that extended to from her to the chair, and that she wound it carefully around the leg where it met the chair base, sealing them together. She flicked her wand, causing a green spark and the smell of the burning had her distracted, but then she heard it again. This time it was louder and there was no mistaking Seamus' accent.

A crash sounded and the Great Hall went silent.

Oliver and Seamus stood facing each other, wands drawn. Sparks flew from Seamus' wand, but before he could do anything more damaging than hitting the wall behind Oliver's head, Ron managed to grab him from behind.

Hermione was there in an instant, her own wand drawn, taking charge. "All right, you two, I don't know what's going on here –"

"Then you're the only one!"

"I don't know," she continued, "and I don't care. We have work to do, and you two obviously can't be paired up with each other." She put her wand up to her lips, thinking for a moment. "Okay, Lavender, you're with Oliver for the rest of the day; Seamus, you're with Parvati. Let's get back to work."

"Who the hell -" Lavender began, but was pulled away by the elbow by Parvati. She barely heard her friend whispering in her ear. She didn't know if she was angrier with Seamus or Oliver or herself, but right now, she was livid with Hermione.

"Fine," she muttered to Parvati, and then turned back to Oliver, ignoring Hermione completely. "Fine. Are we rebuilding or painting?"

She stomped over to where Oliver had been working, and he followed, handing her the bucket of paint.

"Lavender…"

"Don't speak to me," she said through gritted teeth.

He snorted, Lavender…"

She turned, pressing her wand against his chest. "Do not speak to me."

She stared into his hazel eyes and for a moment remembered waking up next to him last week. The large scratch under his eye was almost healed. He smelled of the sweat of work; not of battle. She wavered, thinking to reach out a finger to touch his wounds, but then heard Seamus say something to Parvati about her that was less than complimentary and she hardened again, turning away from Oliver, snatching up the paintbrush and slapping it against the wall.

He stood very close to her, painting higher than she could reach and whenever his arm would graze against hers, she moved to the right, away from her conflicting feelings. When there was no longer space for her to move away, she walked around him and began to paint again on his other side.

They continued like this for two days until she finally left Hogwarts for good.

*********

Lavender sat in the kitchen. Two hours and her shift would be over. How much time was left before the Leaky Cauldron closed its doors and she was out of a job, she wondered. It wasn't much, but it paid her bills, and right now, that was all that mattered. Hannah was beside herself, but after her grandfather died, she really didn't have any choice. The Leaky Cauldron would close soon, perhaps in the next week or so unless someone came in with a vault-load of Galleons. Hannah was more and more depressed and even the attention that Neville seemed to be paying her wasn't making her feel any better. Lavender wondered what she could do to help her friend, but once the Leaky closed its doors, she would also be out of a job.

Her break was over and she stretched, running her wand over her apron to clean it. The place was nearly empty but noisy and she wondered what the fuss was about. She began to head to her usual tables, checking her pockets for parchment and quill and dishrag, but stopped short seeing Oliver Wood, standing close to Hannah, speaking animatedly.

Lavender rolled her eyes and shook her head, turning in the opposite direction, cleaning the first table she came to. She tossed the dishrag onto the table, and pointed her wand at it. She knew she had mastered the non-verbal spell when water began to seep out; then the rag began to move in small circles.

Hannah's voice was excited, much more vibrant than it had been in recent weeks. Lavender turned with a smile that quickly faded when she saw Oliver standing with Hannah. "Did you hear?"

"Oliver's talked the coach of Puddlemere into having team meetings here weekly, every Tuesday, our worst night, and they'll pay for the whole season in advance. That'll carry us through this tough time, and then things will turn around!"

"The whole season? That's a lot of Galleons."

"It is!" Hannah said, hugging Lavender and then Oliver before slipping behind the bar, leaving the two of them alone.

Lavender didn't wait for Oliver to say anything, grabbing her dishrag and turning to leave the table, but was stopped by his hand on her arm. She pulled herself away, but he held on tightly and pulled her back to him.

"Let go of me, you prat!"

"No," he said, firmly. "We need to talk about the Battle."

"i_We/i_ don't need to do anything. Take your hand off me." She pushed him away, but he grabbed her other arm and pulled her into an embrace. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she couldn't speak. She hated him; at this moment, she truly hated him. She tried to lift her knee up, but he turned and blocked her with his thigh.

"No, I don't think so, Lav." He pulled her out of the main room, practically dragging her as she struggled, bringing her into a corner and when he pushed her up against the wall, he blocked her with his body. He was taller than she was, and stronger, but she was angry, and there was no way she was going to listen to anything he had to say.

She punched him in the stomach.

"Uhn." He tried to hold her and tend to the pain, but she shoved him back, and that caught him off balance. He toppled over as she pushed roughly passed him. She heard him moan again, but ignored him, continuing to run off, half-expecting him to grab her again.

He didn't.

She stopped and looked over her shoulder, her hair falling into her eyes. She brushed it aside roughly and saw that not only wasn't Oliver following her, he wasn't moving at all, lying on the floor.

"Oliver?"

She took one step back, and then another.

"Oliver?" she said with a bit more urgency.

She rushed back, kneeling beside his head. He was bleeding. It was hard to tell how much, but his forehead was covered and it had begun to matte his hair. She touched his forehead, slightly dazed, conflicted but then rapidly gained control of herself and pulled out her wand. She hastily cleaned the blood away and healed the scrape. She brushed his hair away from his forehead, and when her shaking finger grazed his skin, he stirred.

Groggy and bleary-eyed, he swallowed and took her hand. "There was no need to try and murder me, lass. I can take a hint."

She grinned, "No, you can't. I hate you."

"No, you don't," he laughed. He sat up on his elbows and got very close to her face. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. "You don't hate me."

He stared into her eyes, but she closed hers as his lips touched her mouth.

Part of her wanted to slap him, but the part that preferred the kissing won out.


End file.
